Twelves Days ficlets, Doctor Who
by rumpelsnorcack
Summary: Series of six ficlets that alternate days with the Twelves Days ficlets, Harry Potter.  This one will run days 1, 3, 5, 7, 9 and 11.  All based on the NZ book: a Pukeko in a Ponga Tree
1. Chapter 1

'Roooooory!'

The voice, coming closer and clearly annoyed, made him wince. With an innocent expression, Rory turned and smiled at Amy.

'What?'

'What's this?'

Rory looked carefully at the picture now hovering under his nose.

'It's ... um ... the twelve days of Christmas,' he said, handing it back to her.

'Oh. Right,' said Amy squinting at the paper, turning it sideways. 'It looks like you're calling me a turd.'

Rory blushed, starting to fidget. 'I know my drawing isn't great, but that's definitely an artistic flourish not a ... a turd.'

With a softened expression, Amy kissed him. 'Thanks for trying.'


	2. Chapter 2

'This is completely wrong,' Rory said firmly as he sat down with his back against a rock nearby. They were on a small island in the middle of a pristine harbour. The TARDIS had dropped them here for some solitary time together but Rory's face suggested he thought it was more like a prison term than an enjoyable outing.

'It's not wrong, it's different. Come on – we need to live a little.' As she spoke, Amy spread the picnic food from the flax basket she had picked up 'to be like a local.'

'It's not wrong to have that,' he pointed skywards, 'at Christmas time? It should be snowing and cold and we should be indoors with cocoa and scarves on. Not here in this weather. It's wrong,' he reiterated stubbornly, staring at the blazing sun above them with suspicious eyes.

Amy rolled her eyes. 'You've been to Venice in the 1500s. You've seen aliens, fought monsters, been plastic ... but out of all that the thing you can't deal with is a bit of sun at Christmas?'

'Those were big unusual things. This is just totally counterintuitive.'

Amy laughed and slid over beside him. 'I'll remember that for next time and make sure the TARDIS takes us to some ice planet for Christmas, or something.' She kissed him. 'Anything to stop this whining ...'

Rory opened his mouth to protest; Amy cut him off by slipping some strawberries into his mouth.

When he had chewed through them he said, 'and that's another thing. Strawberries at Christmas time ... it's just wrong.'

'Rory, shut up and enjoy yourself. Pretend we're on Mars or something!'

Rory couldn't resist when she smiled at him in that way; he leaned over, picked up a strawberry and fed it to Amy.

'I guess this isn't _so_ bad,' he said.


	3. Chapter 3

'But I thought you _wanted_ pork for Christmas Dinner this year,' Amy said as she wrestled with the large carcass in the TARDIS's kitchen.

'I do,' said Rory. 'I wasn't aware that would involve five of them ... or that most would be alive when we got them.' He stared with distaste at the four pigs that Amy had allowed to roam through the kitchen. They were snuffling around the pantry and the noise was a little overwhelming, what with the way their hooves scuttled on the wooden floor the TARDIS had inexplicably chosen, and the various grunts as they found food scraps to eat.

'Oh, those ones aren't for eating,' Amy said. 'Those are my new babies.'

'Babies?' Rory asked. There was a tinge of hope in his voice. His attention snapped back towards Amy, but he was careful to cover his hope with a casual tone. 'Why exactly do we need four pig babies?'

Amy shrugged. 'Why not? They're cute and they needed somewhere to stay.'

Rory gave up. It looked like he was now the proud owner of four pigs, along with his Christmas roast.

Several days later, he wished he'd put more effort into resisting the mad idea. Both Amy and the Doctor had adopted the pigs (really big, really intrusive pigs, Rory always noted) and they were firmly entrenched as part of the TARDIS's cohort of passengers. It was like everywhere he went he tripped over another one; sometimes he even thought they must have multiplied in the night.

All thought of producing real babies fled before the onslaught of the pigs' sleeping habits. Amy's favourite, a black and pink one with soulful eyes and a hangdog expression, had been allowed to sleep in their quarters. Somehow Rory couldn't handle even looking at Amy when the pig hung its head over the side of the bed and _stared_ at him.

He was relieved, but a little puzzled, when a few weeks later the pigs disappeared. When he asked Amy where they had gone, she just shrugged.

'Got bored of them. They were a bit noisy and ... grunty.'

Feeling irrationally upset, Rory went looking for the Doctor.

'I don't get it,' he said. 'Those were her babies, and she just dumped them. What if we have a real baby and she gets bored of looking after a kid one day?'

'Won't happen,' said the Doctor, fiddling with some sort of lever on the TARDIS console.

'How can you be sure?' Rory asked. 'She was so in love with those pigs ...'

'Won't happen,' said the Doctor, 'because a real baby is a different thing. Besides, with a real baby you'll be there looking after it too, not glowering at it as a nuisance.'

Rory blushed. 'But ...'

'No buts!' the Doctor insisted. 'Anyway, it was her experiment to see how she'd cope with a baby. I suggest you talk to _her_ about this.'

He watched in amusement as Rory's face lit up and he sprinted off towards their quarters.


	4. Chapter 4

'Run!' The Doctor's shouted command broke the stillness of the day.

'What?' Rory was a little slow picking up on what was going on, even as his feet started to automatically drive him in the same direction as Amy and the Doctor. The dusty landscape threw up puffs of reddish dirt as they sped across it.

'Those eels you and Amy were admiring in the lake back there ... those aren't eels,' the Doctor shouted as Rory caught up to him. He had a huge grin on his face, looking for all the world as if he was having fun.

'If they're not eels, what are they?' Rory managed to pant out in between taking huge gasping breaths as he ran.

'They're Welloovians.' The Doctor said it as if it was blindingly obvious what that meant and Rory was too puffed to ask him to clarify. He chanced a glance behind him. There were seven of them and they were indeed running towards them on small legs that propelled them forward faster than they should have been able to. They looked ludicrous and yet there was an air of menace about them.

'Come on, you two!' Amy's voice was cheerful as she called to them. Once, Rory would have rolled his eyes at her chirpiness in the face of aliens bringing death and destruction; now, though he didn't like to admit it, he found it quite endearing. Back in Leadworth, Rory used to feel like he couldn't keep up, as if Amy's relentless perkiness was a threat to his future with her. Now, he realised it was just who she was and that, despite all her laughing insults, she wasn't actually going to run away from him – well, not emotionally anyway.

The low growl of the approaching Welloovians cut into Rory's thoughts and made the grin he was wearing slide off his face. Keeping his eyes on Amy's back, Rory sped up, calling on reserves he hadn't known he had. Beside him, the Doctor ran with an easy lope, as if running from crazed monsters was just part of everyday life. Rory grimaced as he realised that probably wasn't too far from the truth.

Suddenly he tripped, and went spiralling head over heels down a small incline he'd failed to notice as he ran. Behind him, the growl of the aliens became a soft hum almost of pleasure and Rory's heart stood still in his chest. _This is it_, he thought. _I'm going to die_. What a way to go – bumped off by giant running eels. He closed his eyes, waiting for the creatures to descend on him.

'What are you doing, you great idiot?' Amy's voice was amused. She held her hand out to him, an expression of loving exasperation on her face.

Rory squinted up at her, noticed that he wasn't dead just yet, and grinned.

'I don't know. Momentary panic?' He climbed to his feet and dusted himself off, looking around to see what had come of the eel things. Bewildered, he saw them galloping back the way they had come, and the Doctor sliding his sonic screwdriver into his pocket.

'Lucky for you I was here to catch you.' Amy slid her hand into his and punched him lightly on the arm. 'Try not to need saving again, right?'

Rory thought about protesting that he hadn't _really_ needed saving and that she hadn't _really_ been the one to do it, but when he looked at her glowing face he decided against it.

'I'll try,' he said instead, leading her over to where the Doctor was standing.


	5. Chapter 5

'You're allergic to shellfish? Why didn't you tell me?' Rory's voice was amused as he tended to Amy. Unwilling to admit why she hadn't said anything, she muttered something unintelligible and he smiled. 'You know I'm training to be a nurse; I could have helped.' He finished smearing lotion on her arms, then carefully wrapped a bandage around the now-slimy limbs. 

Amy sighed as she looked at him. He was so dependable and earnest and Amy had suddenly found it weirdly attractive. His brow was furrowed as he worked on her arm and she found herself wanting to reach out to him. Before she could carry through on the impulse she shook her head. Acting on impulse had landed her in this mess today. 

'But you're not really a nurse, you idiot,' she said instead. The look he gave her showed he knew she was keeping something from him. Amy grimaced in response. 

A few hours earlier Amy'd had a great idea; so great that she had to put it into action right then and there. Once she'd realised she found Rory kind of ... attractive, she'd been filled with frustration because he kept not acting on his interest. After a little thought, she came up with the best idea to get him to actually do something about it. Everyone knew shellfish was an aphrodisiac. Ignoring her childhood allergy to it, Amy had set right out to create the perfect meal. 

When Rory had arrived he had gaped at the table and asked what was going on. Forcing him into his seat, Amy had muttered something about an early Christmas dinner while scooping several of the shellfish onto his plate. Clearly puzzled, but willing to play along, Rory had started eating. All had been going fine until Amy joined him. 

Thinking back now, Amy realised that her plan was perhaps not the most well-thought out. She was red, blotchy and unattractive and now had no show of making Rory act. She sighed again. 

Rory was still bent over her arm, his fingers gentle as he tied off the bandage. Finally deciding to go with her impulse, Amy threw caution to the wind. She grabbed his head and kissed him. He was startled, but responded at once. 

'What was that for?' he asked when she drew back. 

'Merry Christmas, Rory,' she said, reflecting that some impulses were worth acting on more than others.


End file.
